


Enhancements

by Spectacledwino



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Analingus, Cunnilingus, Dark Steve Rogers, Dildos, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Smut, Super Soldier Serum, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21716614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectacledwino/pseuds/Spectacledwino
Summary: The reader discovers some of the other enhancements that come along with the super soldier serum.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 212





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in a long time. I hope you all enjoy!

Steve Rogers was a sight to behold, but where do I start? Maybe the firm muscles that rippled under a fitted blue button-up with the sleeves neatly folded to his elbows? What about how his chinos hugged the curve of his ass and stretched over his strong thighs? Perhaps it was how plump and inviting his bottom lip was? 

Steve Rogers wasn't just a beautiful specimen, though: he was a beautiful soul. When you spoke to him, he listened as if you were the only person in the world. When he gave you a compliment, he would deliver it with such sincerity that you took it as gospel. He was smart, witty, and insanely kind, a true rarity in this world. 

It was as if God said, "Women of the world, I'm sorry for all the terrible shit you've been through all these millennia, so here's my apology, and his name is Steve Rogers."

God, I forgive you.

There was only one issue: I'm pretty sure he doesn't know I exist. 

Well, no, that's not true. He knows my name, and he says hi to me every time he sees me. We occasionally chat, but I don't think I even register on his sexual radar. With the likes of the sultry assassin Natasha Romanoff and the leggy blonde Sharon Carter, I probably rank right along with a busted gym mat.

A girl could dream, though.

And that's where I found myself the next time I encountered Steve Rogers: in a sexually fueled daydream about our fearless leader.

During lunch time, I was in the break room heating up leftovers. As I waited for my food, I was imagining him dragging his lips across my skin when someone saying my name pulled me from my lurid fantasy. I turned and made eye contact with the subject of my daydream. I awkwardly greeted him as I felt my face heat with embarrassment and my heart start pounding in my chest. I had to break the eye contact, otherwise I was afraid he'd be able to see what I was just thinking. 

He made pleasant small talk: asking about my day, how work was going, and my plans for the weekend. I didn't want to be rude, so I answered in kind: my day was going well, work has been busy, and I might just stay in and catch up on some chores around the house. 

When I asked him the same questions, I can honestly say I don't remember a word he said. How could I? I was so lost in the authoritative sound of his voice and the way his lips moved to form the words. 

Those lips! I just wanted to taste them, maybe bite them a little, see how kiss-swollen they'd get. I wanted to feel them press against my skin in tender and tantalizing ways. I could feel myself getting wetter beneath my skirt by the second. I really hoped I wasn't dripping on the floor.

I realized he'd asked me another question when he repeated my name like a question. How long was I gone? Before he could repeat his question, he was summoned away by another agent. He hesitated before offering me a smile and a "goodbye" before leaving, giving me a great view of his backside.

Later that night, I laid in bed naked as my mind kept wandering to back to my favorite captain, as it did many nights. I just couldn't get him off my mind. 

As my thoughts drifted further into depravity, my hands followed suit down my body. My fingertips caressed my chest lightly as I imagined they were his lips. I could feel my nipples harden, so I tugged them softly before raking my nails further down my body. I rubbed my hands down my thighs pretending they were his. I spread my legs letting my fingers dance to my slit. I rubbed one finger through my slickness, avoiding the place I so desperately needed it. 

While I teased my pussy with one hand, I reached into the drawer in my nightstand and pulled out my ever faithful red dildo. I'd named him the Captain because he'd been my companion through many lonely nights thinking of the real one. And tonight, he'd be joining me once again on my journey.

I brought the tip to my mouth swirling my tongue around it before slipping my lips around the head. I rubbed him down my body, finding my pussy, and running his head along my lips. Once I reached my entrance, I slowly pushed him in until I was filled. 

I spent the night fucking myself with the Captain as I imagined it were Steve Rogers doing me himself. 

The next morning at my desk, I wondered what Steve Rogers would think if he knew what I got up to at night, fucking myself with a red dildo that I named after him, calling out his name each time I came apart. He was such an upstanding citizen, a symbol of freedom, a beacon of hope. Would he be appalled by my actions? Or would he be intrigued, turned on by the thought of me pleasuring myself to thoughts of him? I could only imagine.

Days passed at work in the usual fashion: work, daydream about Steve Rogers, talk with my coworkers, daydream some more. 

Because I wasn't an Avenger or even an agent, my work life didn't see much excitement. I handled mission finances and budgets, so I occasionally got to hear firsthand recounts of their exciting adventures. I also worked closely with many of the other departments. 

That's how I happened to overhear some interesting information about the one and only Steve Rogers in Dr. Banner's lab.

Did you know that the super soldier serum enhances a lot of things, like a lot of unsuspecting things? I knew he had enhanced strength, enhanced stamina, super speed, incredible durability, and superhuman reflexes, but I did not know that he had improved senses, as in all of his senses are improved, as in I can never show my face again. 

Why, you may ask?

Well, let me tell you. Normal, non-improved humans have what we deem as normal senses of smell, sight, touch, taste, and hearing. Steve Rogers, our resident super soldier with super soldier enhancements, has near god-like senses. That means he can hear my heart speed up whenever he's near me, and he can probably smell every time I cream my panties. 

Well, time for me to find a new job.

After I found out this little factoid, I steered clear of Steve Rogers. I couldn't trust my body to behave around him. I knew my nipples would harden, and if he had super sight, I bet he'd be able to see them through my bra. Talk about embarrassing.

Luck ran out after a few weeks. I happened to stay late one night finishing up a report when I found myself alone in the break room with Steve Rogers.

I said a quick "hello" and "goodbye" while trying to slip past him, but he stopped me when he said my name as a question. He wanted to know why I was avoiding him. I couldn't think of a good lie, so I stammered a pathetic excuse of a response. He didn't believe my terrible lie. He thought it was something he did or said to me. He apologized for any offense he may have caused, and he wanted to make it up to me. I assured him it wasn't him and that it was just me being busy with work. Again, he didn't believe me. Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to skirt around him again, but this time, he stopped me with his hand on my arm. 

This time I turned to look at him, really look at him. Boy, was that a mistake!

His blue eyes pierced into me, that lower lip out in a slight pout, and I felt my blood rush straight to my clit. As soon as I felt the wetness pool, I noticed his nostrils flare, and I knew that he knew. In the blink of an eye, I found myself pressed against the door frame by Steve Rogers.

His lips were pressing fervently against mine, and his hands were in my hair holding me against him. I felt his tongue against the seam of my mouth, so I slipped my tongue out to tentatively touch his. 

He pulled back quickly, resting his forehead against mine. We were both trying to catch our breaths, and I was trying to figure out if I was dreaming. 

He looked at me and apologized for his impropriety. He just couldn’t handle it anymore. He said it was the way I looked at him and my intoxicating scent. 

Fuck me.

I guess I said it out loud because he lifted me up and carried me to the nearest counter top. Once he set me down, he ripped my shirt open, the buttons flying across the room and pinging off cabinets and walls. My bra was quick to follow. He leaned down and mouthed at my breasts. I felt him nip and bite my skin, and I knew I'd have marks. 

While he mouthed at my breasts, I reached out for him, trying to tug his shirt up and off. He got the hint and pulled back to pull it off himself. 

Seeing him this close without a shirt, it was like seeing the sun rise for the first time: breathtaking and spectacular. I ran my hands over his pecs, up his shoulders, and pulled him down for a deep kiss. I felt his hands move up my legs bringing my skirt up. I lifted my hips, and he left my skirt bunched around my waist. He grabbed the top of my panties and yanked them down.

If I thought a shirtless Steve Rogers was a sight, you can only imagine what I thought when he was on his knees before me.

He tugged my hips forward to the edge of the counter, and he held my thighs open. I watched as he leaned forward and licked from my ass to my clit. I gasped as my eyes rolled back into my head. I felt his mouth wrap around my lips and his teeth grazing oh so gently. That felt amazing! 

He continued his assault on my pussy, avoiding my clit, and I was getting frustrated. I urged him to let me come, and he obliged. He wrapped his lips around my bud and started sucking softly. I felt the moan fall from my lips as he slipped a finger inside me. He added a second when I started rolling my hips. When he added a third, I came apart beneath his mouth and screamed his name.

As I came down, he leaned over me kissing me deeply, his chin and mouth coated in my wetness. I felt his hardness rub over my slit, and I shuddered hard, my pussy still overstimulated. He chuckled, and he ran his cock over my pussy again, eliciting the same reaction. 

Just as I was about to scold him, I felt him slip the tip into me, the words dying in my throat. I gasped, and he kissed me as he slowly slid into me, inch by tantalizingly thick inch. Fuck, he was huge!

Once buried to the hilt, he paused, resting his forehead on my shoulder. I clenched around him, and he told me to stop or he wouldn't last. I did it again teasingly, and he growled, pulling out and thrusting sharply. I almost came, my pussy clenching reflexively around him. He repeated his movement, and it pulled a violent orgasm from me. I shook from the pleasure encompassing my body which caused my walls to tighten around him, and I felt him come crashing down above me.

We had collapsed on the floor of the break room collecting ourselves, the only sounds our ragged breaths. Once composed, I looked at him, and I must say, he was a wonderful image: his skin flushed, hair in disarray, his lips swollen. I told him he was beautiful, and he smiled, saying the same thing about me. I pulled him in for a less passionate kiss than the ones we previously shared. It quickly grew in fervor when he started guiding me to lay backward. I felt him hard and raring to go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve realizes that all of his senses have been enhanced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of the first chapter are retold from Steve's point of view. Enjoy!

Steve Rogers remembered the first time he saw her. Steve had received an email from the head of the finance department introducing a new staff member to the team. Within the email, it had contained a professional head shot, a brief history, and her role.

Upon seeing her photo, Steve became infatuated. She had a bright smile that reached her eyes, she was wearing an olive-colored top, and her hair looked soft to the touch. He'd be embarrassed to admit that he spent too much time staring at the email. 

Steve Rogers was a nervous mess the day she started. He took far too long picking out an outfit in the morning. He would usually wear either his uniform for physically demanding days or a button-up and slacks for the paperwork-filled days, but he wasn't sure about today. He wasn't oblivious to how women swooned over him in the stealth suit -- mostly because Sam or Bucky would point it out -- but there also wasn't anything on his schedule today that required him to wear it. He even toyed with the idea of wearing a full suit. After a lot of internal debate, he decided on a pair of gray slacks and a navy button-up. 

He tried to distract himself all day to get his mind off her, but as the day went on, he became more and more anxious. Her new boss was taking her on a tour of the complex and introducing her to the team and getting her acquainted with her new environment.

By lunch, he still hadn't met her, and his stomach was in knots. It had been such a long time since he'd felt this way. 

He recalled the first time he had ever slept with a woman. She was a nice girl: sweet, kind, and pretty. He was surprised she was willing to have sex with him because, at the time, Steve Rogers was not necessarily a catch. He was scrawny, had numerous health issues, and nothing like the other men his age. 

Steve thought he was going to have a heart attack when she had taken off her clothes. He about had an asthma attack when he entered her, and to be honest, he didn't even last long enough for her to even begin thinking about enjoying herself. God, he couldn't believe anyone was willing to sleep with him in his pre-serum, illness-riddled body. 

The only other time he could think of was his one and only kiss with Peggy.

_Peggy._

He felt nostalgia and sentiment wash over his body. She had been a lifetime ago, but he loved her. He had come to terms with the fact that they would never be together, but she would always hold a special place in his heart for her. She moved on, and now, it was time for him to do the same.

After a fidgety lunch, Steve Rogers returned to his office. No sooner had he sat at his desk when he heard a soft knock at the door. He froze, his heart racing, his palms sweating. He felt like the 90-pound, 5-foot-4 kid from Brooklyn all over again. 

He took a few deep breaths before inviting the visitors into his office, a crack in his voice. 

He was surprised in himself after the first meeting. He didn't completely embarrass himself, even with one or two corny jokes on his part. He felt immense relief when she laughed in response. 

How cliché would it be if he said her laughter was music to his ears?

Since meeting her, he had fallen into a deeper infatuation with her. Whenever he'd run into her in the halls or she'd come to see him before and after a mission, they'd always briefly talk: her new role, how she's settling in, how his mission went, what he liked to do for fun. They never went deeper than that. He figured she wasn't interested. That is until Sam made mention of something.

Steve Rogers was not an expert in women, not by a long shot. It had taken Sam pointing out how she stared at him when she thought no one was looking: something about her undressing Steve with her eyes. That had gotten his blood pumping.

Steve was a kind man, a gentleman, the epitome of chivalry, but something inside him, something carnal, some raw human instinct was trying to claw its way to the top. 

He tried to relieve some of his excitement in the gym, but the treadmill could only go so fast. He tried sparring with Bucky -- the only one capable of regularly going toe-to-toe with him -- but Bucky had bested him one time too many in his sexually distracted state. 

The only thing that seemed to help him relieve some of the tension was stroking himself to thoughts of her when he was alone in his room late at night. He'd imagine her on her knees worshipping his body with her mouth, drawing moans from him with her tongue. He'd pretend his hand was hers as he pumped himself furiously in the still of the night. He'd imagine her laid out before him, legs spread welcoming him to feast on her intimate parts. Afterward, while he lay spent on his bed, he hoped she spent her nights at home in her bed in a similar fashion, pleasuring herself to images of him. 

He had caught her staring at him through a reflective surface one afternoon. He noticed how her eyes roamed his back, lingering on his ass for a longer than necessary amount of time. She had licked her lips, her eyes following his arms as he crossed them, his biceps flexing from the movement. He decided then and there to wear more fitted pants and slightly snugger shirts. 

He could feel whenever her eyes were on him, and he reveled in it. He enjoyed watching her cheeks flush whenever they spoke, and he swore he could hear her heart speed up. He knew he had an effect on her because he could smell her arousal anytime they were together. 

He didn't know what the scent was at first. He thought it was an intoxicating perfume she wore, but whatever it was, it had his blood rushing south. He figured out what it was the day he tried asking her out. 

He had found her in the break room, preparing her lunch. He noticed her perfume was faint, barely noticeable. When he greeted her and started asking her about her weekend asking if she wanted to join him for a movie, he noticed the scent get stronger while her cheeks pinkened. She didn't seem to hear him, but the scent became overpowering for him. He called her name about to repeat his question when he was pulled away.

Later that night after searching online for clues about his reaction to her perfume, he discovered a wealth of information about sexual arousal and pheromones. He was certain that was what he was smelling: her arousal. He knew the serum enhanced many of his abilities and senses, but he didn't consider smell. To be certain, he went to ask the discreet Dr. Banner to shed some light.

He didn't see her again for nearly a month. 

She hadn’t been sick, but he felt she was avoiding him. Instead of visiting his office for information for her work, she'd send an email instead. He tried dropping in to see her, but she'd be conveniently unavailable. Because it had been so long, Steve was concerned she had actually heard him when he asked her out, but instead of excited, she had felt ashamed. 

He found her late one night in the break room, well past when any of the other staff would have gone home. He tried to apologize for anything he did that may have been inappropriate, and she tried to run from him. When she looked at him, it was as if her scent possessed him. He backed her against the doorframe and kissed her like his life depended on it. When she reciprocated, he knew he was done for. 

The first time went by in a near blur. He ripped off her shirt, the buttons flying. He mouthed at her breasts, biting hard enough that he hoped he would leave marks. He wanted the bruises to be a reminder for her the next morning. 

Her scent was enveloping him by now, and he wanted to get a taste. He bunched her skirt around her hips, yanking her panties off. Kneeling before her, he was transfixed by her glistening before him, and he needed to taste her. He licked from her puckered hole to her tiny bud, savoring the heady taste of her on this tongue. He wanted more, and he wanted to please her, so he grazed his teeth along her lips, savoring the taste and how her legs tightened around his head.

When she begged him to let her come, he sought out her bundle of nerves, wrapped his lips around it, and softly suckled at her. Hearing her moans of pleasure spurred him on. The first time she came, he was three fingers deep in her, his lips still over her, and his name falling from her lips was the most beautiful sound. 

She was tight, and he almost came when he was fully inside her. He tried to concentrate on not coming, but then she squeezed him: he almost broke. He warned her as much, and she did it again. He thrust into her pointedly, and she squeezed him again. He thrust sharply again, and she broke apart, her walls fluttering around him. He was quick to follow, a guttural moan ripping from his mouth. 

He had dropped to the floor with her, and he sat there catching his breath, disbelieving that he didn't even make it three thrusts before he came inside her like he was a virgin again. It was well worth it, though. 

He felt her eyes on him, and he locked eyes with her. She called him beautiful, and he said the same about her before pulling her into a kiss growing in passion.

This next time, he went slower, savoring the feel of her around him, under him. She felt soft and warm beneath him, and she made the most beautiful sounds. He took his time, wanting to draw it out. When she came again, he helped her ride through the waves of pleasure, whispering sweet, dirty things in her ear. It didn't take long for him to follow behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the aftermath of the first two chapters.

Steve Rogers was a force to be reckoned with. He was powerful, strong, and assertive. He exuded authority and righteousness, and I wanted him to dominant my body. 

He did. Oh, yes, he did. 

As soon as he pushed me against the doorframe, all rational thought left and was replaced with my basic, carnal instincts. The feel of his muscled physique pressing into me made my knees weak, and I knew I would let him do whatever he wanted to me.

Remember how I was fixated on his mouth? How I wanted to kiss him, and feel his lips move across my skin? My wish came true. He nipped and sucked at my boobs, and my nerve endings came to life. I could feel the blood rush to the surface of my skin as he sucked bruises onto my breasts. His mouth was hot, a stark contrast to the rest of the room. He bit at my nipples, tugging them until they were taut peaks. 

When he moved lower, I couldn't believe what was happening. Yeah, I fantasized about him eating me out, but to have him actually do it, I didn't know what to think except yes please. 

Straight-laced Steve Rogers had an appetite for pussy, and he ate mine so well. I was so right about that beautiful mouth. Unlike other men that had gone down on me, he didn't treat it like a chore, nor did he do that tongue-flicking thing in porn. Steve Rogers ate me like I was a ripe Georgia peach, and he was trying to get at every bit of juice threatening to dribble down his chin.

Fuck, I could come just thinking about it!

And then when he fucked me on the counter? Or when he fucked me on the floor? I knew I had died and gone to heaven. 

His cock felt so perfect inside of me. He was huge, and not in the over-dramatic, ego-stroking way. He was huge in the "I'm going to need a wheelchair tomorrow" way, and I loved every inch of it. 

God, Steve Rogers is by far the best lay in my life, and I don't think I'll ever come across anyone like him again. He ruined me, and I wanted more. 

The only thing I regret was how it ended. After the post-coital bliss wore off, I realized I should probably go clean myself up. I was covered in sweat, my clothes -- what was left of them -- were in disarray, and I could feel the mixture of our fluids dripping out of me. I had hastily excused myself with the remnants of my clothes to the restroom to make myself as presentable as possible, and by the time I came back, he was gone. He wasn't in the break room, his office, my office, or even the men's room. 

Well, fuck me.

Did Steve Rogers just use me for sex? He didn't seem like the kind of guy to do that, to just jizz and jet, but I also didn't think he'd be the kind of guy to fuck someone in a relatively public place. Maybe I was wrong about him. 

I'm not one to judge. I have had my fair share of one-night stands and flings. I've used men for sex before, but this felt different. He told me I was beautiful, but I did call him beautiful first. Maybe it was a reflex for him. I don't know, though. It felt different than that; it felt like he was being genuine and that he was trying to say something more with that. 

I know I probably shouldn't overthink it. He probably had a very valid reason to abandon me after pounding my brains out in the employee break room, the rational part of me said. 

The irrational, slightly overdramatic side said that he regretted every action, and he wanted to run and hide. 

Guess which side won.

I spent the next couple of days analyzing every single detail about our afternoon delight to figure out where it went wrong, where I went wrong. Was he upset that I didn't try to reciprocate the oral sex? It's not like he really gave me a chance. Did he not like my reactions? I've never really had the opportunity to watch myself in the throes of passion, but I had never heard anyone complain before. Well, that's a lie. I did have a neighbor that said I was too loud, but that's from an uninvolved third party. 

By the third day, I was panicking. Not just because I felt like Steve Rogers regretted our passion-filled night in the employee lounge, but also because I was afraid I was going to get fired. I had completely forgotten that I worked at the Avengers compound, a heavily secured facility where Earth's Mightiest Heroes ran their base of operations. One such hero was Tony Stark -- billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, tech genius -- and I'm sure to protect the people and secrets at this location, he had installed some sort of surveillance system on the premises, including the break room.

Oh my God! I made a sex tape, and now, it was forever locked away in the Avengers' archives. My mind was racing thinking of so many different, crazy things. How often was the footage reviewed? Who watched it? Fuck, was it the Avengers? Have they seen it yet? Were they going to share it with everyone? What if it got out into the public? 

Just kill me now.

Later that same afternoon, I was called into a meeting with my boss. My mind went into overdrive. I was going to get fired, and it was because I couldn't keep my legs closed. I wanted to cry, but I wouldn't let myself do it, at least not until I was home alone where no one could see me. I'd be strong and stoic during my dismissal, I told myself. I'd walk out with my head held high as I carried a box filled with my belongings in my arms. I wouldn't give them any more reason to humiliate more than I already had myself. As soon as I got home, though, I'd tear into my snack and wine stash to drown my sorrows and devastation.

I controlled my breathing as I walked down the hallway to my doom. Don't admit anything, I told myself. Deny, deny, deny. If they show you the sex tape, just think of Shaggy: it wasn't me. 

Apparently, my boss wanted to review the budgets for the upcoming missions, which is actually something that regularly happens, and yours truly completely forgot about. Throughout the entire meeting, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe my boss would wait until the very end to hand me my pink slip. Such a twisted way to fuck with my head, but didn't I deserve it? I fucked America's golden boy where we all gather and eat. There's a special place in hell for lustful people like me.

You wouldn't believe the relief that washed over me when I left his office with my job intact. He didn't mention it, nor did he act like he knew it even happened. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus!

That meant I still had time to find the footage and delete it Mission Impossible-style.

Or, my rational brain said, leave it alone. If it hasn't happened yet, it probably won't happen. Just move on.

Easy for you to say, brain. You're not the one that has to deal with any of the consequences. And we both know I'm going to overanalyze the shit out this and lose sleep over everything. 

I argued with myself internally on the way back to my office. When I made it back to my office, new panic set in. 

There, leaning against my desk, was Captain America.

"Can we talk?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've all been enjoying the work so far. I wasn't expecting this to be more than two chapters, but this story just dragged me in. I would like to see this story go further, but I think I might transform it into snapshots instead of a traditional story. If you have any suggestions about what you'd like to see, please let me know. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries to understand his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. I'm sorry for the delay, and my excuses are as follows: end of the semester schoolwork and finals, holidays, work, lack of a muse, and laziness. Hope you enjoy!

Steve Rogers was generally a calm and reasonable man. Few things could rattle or surprise him, even fewer would make him nervous. But as he walked toward her office to speak with her, he felt his palms get sweaty, his heart speed up, and his knees get wobbly. 

He wanted to apologize for disappearing on her, but in that moment of post-coital bliss, he realized what he'd just done: fucked a coworker in the break room with no inhibitions whatsoever. 

He was appalled at himself. He was supposed to be Captain America, America's Golden Boy, a role model that thought through all his actions, weighed the pros and cons of each decision before him, put the well-being of everyone else before his own needs. In that moment -- that moment when he couldn't control himself -- his only thoughts were of the beautiful, naked woman before him and how he wanted to bury his cock into her willing and weeping pussy. 

What would people think if they knew that Captain America was a sexual deviant? Would anyone be able to trust him? Would they look at him the same way, or would they glare at him in disgust? Would he be able to look at himself in the mirror? 

These questions consumed him after she left to clean herself up afterward. He was overwhelmed by such a sense of shame and guilt that he ran. He needed air to clear his head and make sense of what happened. 

Never in his entire life did he feel that: the overwhelming urge to claim a woman. Yes, he may have lusted and fantasized about women before, but he never felt the need to act on those thoughts. This was different: she was different. He wanted to feel her around him, hear his name spill from her lips, and watch her fall apart beneath him. 

All these emotions and feelings were brand new to him, and they scared him. He felt like a monster, a caveman with no sense of civility, and he was scared his primal urges would win out again. He couldn't let that happen. He was afraid he would hurt her, so he stayed away. 

Steve Rogers avoided her like the plague, and he was wound so tight from his fears and concerns about the beast that lay dormant within him that he was giving himself stress headaches. His friends and coworkers couldn't help but notice, but the energy he was giving off made everyone steer clear, except Nat. 

Natasha Romanov had cornered him in his office. "It's about a girl, isn't it?" she had asked. "The one from the finance team, right?" 

Of course she knew, he thought. And the way she was staring at him with her probing eyes made him divulge more than he would have liked. The great thing about Nat, though, was she didn't appear to judge him. 

"Steve, you've spent so many years playing the good guy. Maybe it's time for you to enjoy the more physical things in life."

He knew she was right: she was always right. Hearing someone else say it made the weight melt from his shoulders, and her words washed away the guilt and shame he had been feeling. 

It was OK for him to feel weak and vulnerable, and he needed to start with her.

That was why he found himself in her office leaning against her desk as he waited for her to get back from her meeting with her boss. He knew he needed to apologize for abandoning her and avoiding her for the past few days. And as nervous as that made him, he couldn't back out because she was walking through her office door.

He took a deep breath, before speaking.

"Can we talk?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going forward, I don't think I'm going to stick with a traditional, progressive story line. I might do more oneshot-style chapters, but I haven't completely decided yet. I like my characters, but this story originally started because I wanted a story about Steve Rogers losing control but wasn't a story about dark!Steve and rape/non-con. Let me know what you think :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve repents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in the same day?! What?! It's my apology for taking so long. Hope you enjoy!

I never thought I'd ever be able to bring Steve Rogers to his knees, but I was very wrong. I had Captain Steve Rogers, leader of the Avengers, on his knees with his face buried in my cunt. 

How did we get here?

Well, when I found him in my office after the meeting with my boss, Steve explained why he had been so conveniently absent. Turns out, America's Most Righteous Man wasn't so pure. He had some deep, seemingly dark desires he was afraid to let loose. I thought it was a bullshit excuse for him abandoning and avoiding me, but the sincerity in his bright blue eyes had me quickly on my way to accepting his apology. 

"I promise that I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you," he vowed. 

His words started a fire in my belly. 

"Anything?" I asked. 

"Anything."

I felt such a surge of power, and I knew exactly how I wanted him to start begging his way into my good graces. 

"Lock the door, and I want you down on your knees before me." 

I watched as his eyebrows shot to his hairline, but he quickly locked the door and shut the blinds. When he turned to face me, I had sat in my chair, having shed my thong and hooking my right leg over the arm rest. 

"Eat," I demanded. 

Steve obeyed without a word, and he walked over to me, kneeled down, and began sucking on my pussy. 

There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that Steve Rogers was great at asking for forgiveness. His mouth was hot and wet and everything I needed right then. The stress from the past few days just washed away the longer his tongue laved over my clit, and I could feel myself getting closer. My pussy began clenching, begging for something to fill me up. 

Steve must have sensed it because he lifted my hips and dragged his tongue to my entrance. He pointed it and started tongue-fucking me, lapping my slick up and giving me something to squeeze. I could feel myself getting closer, and the smug bastard knew it. He knew it because he pulled away as I was just about to come and smiled up at me with his glistening mouth. 

"Am I forgiven?" he asked innocently.

"You know damn well you're not," I said with an exasperated breath and heaving chest. 

He chuckled and returned back to the task at hand, or so I thought. Instead of going back to eating me out, Steve had slipped further south, and he began licking slowly around my puckered hole. 

Color me surprised now that I knew Steve liked to eat ass. 

"Please, Steve," I begged. "Let me come. I'm so close."

I felt him pull away from my ass, but I soon felt thick digits press into both my asshole and my cunt as his mouth enveloped my clit. 

The moment he applied suction, I came apart, clenching his fingers for dear life. I barely had time to slap a hand over my mouth as I felt a scream rip from my throat. Thankfully it was mostly muffled. I really didn't need my coworkers knowing what was happening behind closed doors. 

I felt boneless, like my body was just completely jello. 

Steve Rogers was definitely forgiven.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addiction is no joke.

Hi, everyone. I am an addict.

I am a sex addict, to be specific.

To be even more specific, I am addicted to sex with Steve Rogers. Well, more like I'm addicted to how he makes my body sing with pleasure: how my legs tremble in anticipation of my orgasm, how my skin tingles in post-orgasmic euphoria, and how my mind goes blank from the bliss coursing through my veins. 

My addiction has no prescribed treatment program, and I'm OK with that. Who needs the 12 steps to recovery from Steve Rogers? Not me. 

That's probably how I found myself in a secluded stairwell at the compound with Steve Rogers' eager tongue in my ass and three of his thick fingers in my pussy. 

Shortly after beginning our sexcapades, I quickly discovered that Steve Rogers liked to eat ass and that I was absolutely on board. I've always enjoyed anal, and I've only had someone rim me once or twice. It was weird, enjoyable, and totally taboo. Unfortunately for me, I was never able to find another man who would allow their tongue to stray that way, so I was never able to explore analingus more in depth. That is, until Steve Rogers came along and licked my hole. 

Steve Rogers, I've come to find out, really enjoys pleasuring me with his mouth. Most of the time he and I are in the throes of passion, he has his mouth caressing some part of my body, and he gets off on it. I know some guys say their pleasure relies on their partner enjoying themselves, but not Steve Rogers. I know for a fact he does: the last time he went down on me, he had come in his pants. 

During another late night for me at the compound, he had escorted me to my car in the parking under the pretense of chivalry. We both knew what was going to happen, but both of us played innocent. "Innocently,"I had opened the driver's side back seat door to place my purse down, and I made show of leaning over to secure my purse, exaggerating the bend. I soon found myself flipped onto my back on the seat, my skirt pushed up, and my panties completely gone. By the time I realized what was happening, Steve was already wrapping my thighs around his ears. The first stroke of his tongue along my lips had my legs trapping his head. I only lasted a few minutes. He kissed me as I recovered, and as I reached out to return the favor, my hands came into contact with a large wet spot at the front of his khakis. I never asked, and he never explained.

To be completely honest, I don't even remember how we ended up here today. One minute I'm delivering reports to someone near his office, and the next, I'm on my hands and knees on a concrete staircase with Captain America tossing my salad. I'm definitely not complaining, but I have to say that all my logic flies out the window when I see him. 

The orgasm rips through my body, and I feel myself gush around his fingers and on his chin. He holds me steady as he licks me clean, my hips anchored between one of his hands on my hip and the other still inside me. 

He helps me stand on shaky legs and right my appearance. What a gentleman! As my breathing slows, he pulls me into a gentle kiss, and I taste myself on his tongue. I let my hand wander down his front toward his bulge, but he stops my hand from caressing him. 

We head in different directions ready to continue with our day as if nothing ever happened. The only evidence is my tingling and flushed skin and a smirk on his handsome face.


End file.
